Under normal circumstances he would have presented a dignified and kindly appearance, but now his face was drawn into an expression of horror and distress, and his hasty movements also betokened his anxiety. On seeing so many strangers, he hesitated. The inspector stepped forward.
‘Mr Duke, sir? I am Inspector French of the Criminal Investigation Department of New Scotland Yard. I very much regret to confirm the news which you have already heard, that your head clerk, Mr Gething, has been murdered, and I fear also that your safe may have been burgled.’
It was evident that the old gentleman was experiencing strong emotion, but he controlled it and spoke quietly enough.
‘This is terrible news, Inspector. I can hardly believe that poor old Gething is gone. I came at once when I heard. Tell me the details. Where did it happen?’
French pointed to the open door.
‘In here, sir, in your private office. Everything is still exactly as it was found.’
Mr Duke moved forward, then on seeing the body, stopped and gave a low cry of horror.
‘Oh, poor old fellow!’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s awful to see him lying, there. Awful! I tell you, Inspector, I’ve lost a real friend, loyal and true and dependable. Can’t he be lifted up? I can’t bear to see him like that.’ His gaze passed on to the safe. ‘And the safe! Merciful heavens, Inspector! Is anything gone? Tell me at once, I must know! It seems heartless to think of such a thing with that good old fellow lying there, but after all I’m only human.’
‘I haven’t touched the safe, but we’ll do so directly,’ the inspector answered. ‘Was there much in it?’
‘About three-and-thirty thousand pounds’ worth of diamonds were in that lower drawer, as well as a thousand in notes,’ groaned the other. ‘Get the body moved, will you, and let us look.’
French whistled, then he turned to his men.
‘Get that table cleared outside there, and lift the body on to it,’ he ordered; then to the doctor he added, ‘Perhaps, Doctor, you could make your examination now?’
The remains were lifted reverently and carried from the room. Mr Duke turned impatiently to the safe, but the inspector stopped him.
‘A moment, sir, if you please. I am sorry to ask you to stretch your patience a little longer, but before you touch the safe I must test it for finger prints. You see the obvious necessity?’
‘I would wait all night if it would help you to get on the track of the scoundrels who have done this,’ the old gentleman answered grimly. ‘Go on in your own way. I can restrain myself.’
With a word of approval, Inspector French fetched one of the cases brought by his assistants, and producing little boxes of French chalk and of lampblack, he proceeded to dust over the smooth portions of the safe, using white powder on a dark background and vice versa. On blowing off the surplus powder, he pointed triumphantly to a number of finger prints, explaining that the moisture deposited from the skin held the powder, which otherwise dropped off. Most of the marks were blurred and useless, but a few showed clearly the little loops and whorls and ridges of thumbs and fingers.
‘Of course,’ French went on, ‘these may all be quite useless. They may be those of persons who had a perfect right to open the safe—your own, for instance. But if they belong to the thief, if there was one, their importance may be incalculable. See here now, I can open this drawer without touching any of them.’
Mr Duke was clearly at the end of his patience, and he kept fidgeting about, clasping and unclasping his hands, and showing every sign of extreme impatience and uneasiness. As the drawer opened, he stepped forward and plunged in his hand.
‘Gone!’ he cried hoarsely. ‘They’re all gone! Thirty-three thousand pounds’ worth! Oh, my God! It means ruin.’ He covered his face with his hands, then went on unsteadily. ‘I feared it, of course. I thought it must be the diamonds when the officer rang me up. I have been trying to face it ever since. I shouldn’t care for myself. It’s my daughter. To think of her exposed to want! But there. It is wicked of me to speak so who have only lost money, while poor old Gething has lost his life. Don’t mind me, Inspector. Carry on. What I want most now is to hear of the arrest of the murderer and thief. If there is anything I can do to help in that, command me.’
He stood, a little stooped and with haggard face, but dignified even in his grief. French in his pleasant, kindly way tried to reassure him.
‘Now, you don’t need to give up heart, sir,’ he advised. ‘Diamonds are not the easiest things to dispose of, and we’re right on to the loss at once. Before the thief can pass them on we shall have all the channels under observation. With any ordinary luck, you’ll get them back. They were not insured?’
‘Part of them only. About nineteen thousand pounds’ worth were insured. It was my cursed folly that the rest were not. Gething advised it, but I had never lost anything, and I wanted to save the money. You understand our trade has been difficult since the war, and our profits were not the same as formerly. Every little has counted, and we have had to economise.’
‘At worst, then, that is £14,000 gone?’
‘If the insurance companies pay in full, that is all, besides the thousand in notes. But, Inspector, it is too much. To meet my share of the loss will beggar me.’ He shook his head despondently. ‘But never mind my affairs in the meantime. Don’t, I beg of you, lose any time in getting after the criminal.’
‘You are right, sir. If, then, you will sit down there for a few minutes I’ll get rid of the others, and then I shall ask you for some information.’
The old gentleman dropped wearily into a chair while French went to the outer office. The policeman who had been sent to inform Gething’s family of the tragedy had just returned. French looked at him inquiringly.
‘I called, sir, at the address you gave me,’ he reported. ‘Miss Gething was there, and I told her what had occurred. She was considerably upset, and asked me if I could get a message to her sister and brother-in-law at 12 Deeley Terrace, Hawkins Street, in Battersea. I said I would fetch them for her. The brother-in-law, name of Gamage, was from home in Leeds, being a traveller for a firm of fur dealers, but Mrs Gamage was there and I took her across. It seemed the old lady had wanted to know what was up, and Miss Gething had told her, and she had got some kind of stroke. They asked me to call a doctor, which I did. The two daughters say they can’t get across here on account of being occupied with the mother.’
‘So much the better,’ French commented, and having added the names and addresses of Mr and Mrs Gamage to his list, he turned to the doctor.
‘Well, Doctor,’ he said pleasantly, ‘how do you get on?’
The doctor straightened himself up from his position over the corpse.
‘I’ve done all I can here,’ he answered. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt the man was killed instantaneously by the blow on the head. The skull is fractured, apparently by some heavy, blunt weapon. I should think it was done from behind while the old fellow was stooping, possibly working at the safe, though that, perhaps, is your province.’
‘I’m glad of the hint anyway. Now, gentlemen, I think that’s all we can do tonight. Can your men remove the body, Superintendent? I want to stay for a moment to take a few measurements. You’ll let me know tomorrow about the inquest? Mr Orchard, you might stay a moment also; there is a question or two I want to ask you.’
The superintendent had sent one of his men for a stretcher, and the remains were lifted on and carried slowly down to the waiting taxi. With an exchange of good-nights, the local men withdrew, leaving Inspector French, Mr Duke, Orchard, and the two plain-clothes men from the Yard in charge of the premises.